


Hesitations and Masturbations

by cjysteris



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 05:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19288768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjysteris/pseuds/cjysteris
Summary: A problem, a best friend, and a lack of undies makes Hiccup's life go right... or up, depending on where you look.





	Hesitations and Masturbations

**Author's Note:**

> Made this fanfic years ago and posted it on ffnet under the same username. I was bored and looking to get back into writing again, then I remembered I didn't post this on AO3, so here I am!

"Hiccup."

"Yeah?"

"Did you know? Missing someone can hurt you. Literally."

HIccup glanced at Astrid, tearing his eyes away from his book for a while. "We talked about this. Not everything on the internet is true."

"It says here it's a fact." She pointed at the laptop screen.

"Everything on the internet is a fact. If I said I had dated two hundred smoking hot women and managed to keep my virginity even when I'm horny, everyone would probably believe me. Hell, if I added that I played World of Warcraft, internet wizards will probably hail me as a god."

Astrid made a face at her. "I didn't understand half of that. And why do you always ruin my delusions?"

"I'm your voice of reason. It's our duty—"

"—as best friends to ruin each other's delusions," she finished.

Hiccup nodded. "But I like ruining your hopes and dreams, too. Sometimes."

"Jerk." She grabbed his book from his hands.

"Hey!" He scrambled for the book, but she stood up and away from him, preventing him from reaching it. "Give that back!"

The both of them had the same height (a fact that Astrid had been so annoyingly smug about), so Hiccup had to make a bit of effort to reach the book since she stood on her tiptoes.

When he got it back, Astrid pushed her playfully. He pushed back just as strong as she did, but she exaggerated it. She fell dramatically on his bed, her baggy shirt going up to reveal her stomach.

"Stand up," he said. "That's my spot."

"I don't want to. Just imagine that I'm a fish and that I have no feet."

Hiccup sighed. He dropped the book down her chest—and noticed something amiss. "Fine."

She grinned at him, flashing her perfectly white teeth. It was blinding, but he resisted the urge to cover his eyes. "I'm hungry. Make me breakfast."

"Fishes don't have breakfast. And it's one o'clock in the afternoon."

"Only my lower body is a fish, which probably makes me Ariel. Besides, somewhere out there, on another continent, people are having breakfast. I can have one now and call it breakfast if I want to."

"There's this little thing called time zones—"

"I want bacon, by the way."

Hiccup raised his hands in surrender. "Fine," he repeated. He moved towards the door and exited, but he stopped when he closed door halfway. "Just do me a favor," he half-shouted.

"Yes?" She shifted her position and looked at him, her eyes twinkling.

"Wear a bra."

He closed the door then, muffling her protests.

* * *

Just as Hiccup had finished Astrid's "breakfast", he heard his bedroom door open.

Astrid poked her head out. "Is it done?"

"Yes." He scooped up the bacon and put it on her plate—Astrid declared his ceramic flowery plate to be hers years ago—then slid it down the counter with a flourish. "Do you want wine with that?"

Astrid grinned again. She stepped out of the corridor, and Hiccup sighed in relief when he saw the outline of her bra through her shirt. "You could be a chef, you know? Have your own TV show. You're cute. Every sexually frustrated mother will dream of you ravishing them in their bed every night." She grabbed a fork and played with the bacon for a while, waiting for it to cool.

"No thanks," he answered. "Taking care of you is already a full-time job..." He gave her a cautious glance. "...every time you run away from your home."

Astrid's hands stopped. "How did you know?"

"We've been best friends for eleven years—"

"Eleven and a half!"

"So I know you well."  _Perhaps too well_ , he added as an afterthought.

Her head fell. "I hate you sometimes," she mumbled, not really meaning it.

"It's your mom, isn't it?"

Her head fell deeper. "Yeah..."

Hiccup waited.

Astrid took a small bite from her bacon. It was a long time before she spilled. "She's being annoying," she said bitterly.

"Annoying how?" He asked even though he was already sure of his suspicions.

"She's been setting me up on dates. Again."

_Of course_   _she is._

This attitude of her mom only started when she became eighteen—and still had no boyfriend. Hiccup didn't get how it was her mom's business, but Astrid had only said to him, "It's a girl thing. You wouldn't understand."

It was a rare occurrence back then—she only set Astrid up for double dates once or twice every month or so. Astrid didn't want to disobey, since she didn't want to make her mother mad.

It gradually became worse. Pretty soon, her mom would bring some guy to their house for dinner every week. Then it became once every three days. There was one time when her mother got two plane tickets to Hawaii for Astrid and whoever it was her mom set her up with, and she was forced to avoid him by staying in a different hotel. Her mom went ballistic after that and became more aggressive in her efforts.

Astrid went to him every single time it happened. At one point, she brought her clothes along with her and stashed them in his room. Only a third of his closet belonged to him now, the rest was Astrid's. He didn't mind. She was welcome to his apartment every time she wanted to crash.

Astrid grabbed his shoulder from across the counter. "Hiccup?"

He shook himself from his thoughts. "Yes?"

"What should I do?"

Ah. There it was. It wasn't just a question. It was  _the_ question. "Make your mom understand."

She raised her perfect brow. "You haven't met her yet, have you?"

"No," he admitted. He wanted to say,  _how hard could it be? B_ ut he remembered that he never met his mother, and he wasn't close with his father. His uncle Gobber raised him, and he was never uptight with him. He loved his uncle dearly, but he wasn't like a father. More like a teacher. He didn't understand Astrid—which was why he dreaded  _the_ question so much.

"And I tried that before." She didn't sound angry. Just resigned.

"Move, then. Away from your home. Live with—" He bit his lip. "Alone. Live alone."

She took another bite of her bacon. "She won't let me."

"You're twenty-three, Astrid."

"And jobless."

He snorted at that. Astrid graduated as an engineer. She had straight As every semester, and she didn't fail to remind Hiccup about it every now and then. Hiccup was sure that she could get a job whenever she wanted.

But that was the problem. She didn't want to. All because she had been fired just  _once—_ she hadn't told him how it happened, and he'd long accepted the fact that she never will. It was a half-assed reason for Hiccup, but he didn't voice out his thoughts. It was a touchy subject for her. After being fired, the flame in her had weakened to a flicker, and her mom's incessant set-ups was making it die out completely.

He missed the old Astrid. She was so energetic back then, so blinding. In fact... "You ran five part-time jobs when we were studying. I'm sure you can find one again."

Astrid rolled her eyes. "That's easy for you to say. You're an author."

He frowned. "So?"

"All you have to do is write stuff. There's nothing else required—no degree, no diploma, no job interviews— as long as people like what you write, you're set."

When Hiccup was new to being an author, he might've been annoyed Astrid's words, but he's heard it so many times before that he got used to it. "It's hard, too, you know," he said. "My first book got rejected half a dozen times. I was nearly broke by the time they liked what I gave them."

"And here you are now—" she looked at the large window that overlooked the Berkian Sea "—rich."

"Moderately rich," he corrected. "Like middle-class rich."

"Moderately rich is still rich."

"Wise words." He cleared his throat. " _The point is_ ," he said loudly to change the subject, "you're a smart and amazing woman. You can find a job whenever and wherever you want. Gods, you'll probably get accepted at the first place you apply."

Astrid ducked her head to hide a smile. She liked being complimented. "I should've moved out of my mom's before I got fired back then."

"You should've," he agreed.

Astrid took a bite of her bacon again. She wasn't even halfway done. It was probably cold now. "Hey, what job do you think should I get?"

"Are you kidding? You're an engineer."

"Other than that," she said quickly. "I'm done with, you know, doing typical engineer stuff. It's killing me slowly. Every time I design bridges I feel like I'm getting skinned alive."

"Well..." He rested his chin on his palm. "A model?"

Astrid choked on her bacon. " _No._ "

"Why not? You're gorgeous. Plus, you have connections."

"No, I don't."

"Heather is a model. I'm sure she can talk to someone."

"If you think I'll get pictures of myself splattered on magazines, or worse, calendars, you are dead wrong."

He tried to imagine Astrid in a magazine, wearing a bikini and looking sexy as hell. It didn't work. The only clothes he'd seen Astrid in were t-shirts, baggy t-shirts, jeans, baggy jeans, and old converses. She had a strong aversion to womanly clothes, for some reason. She'd be amazing if she started dressing like a woman.

"Think of the sales you'll bring in," he said lightly. "Every hormonal guy on Berk will buy magazines just to jerk off to your pictures."

"Oh?" Astrid started clapping slowly. "Very clever, Hiccup."

"What?"

She smiled coyly and leaned in, their noses almost touching. "That's a subtle way of saying  _you'll_  be masturbating to my pictures," she whispered. She was holding back a laugh.

Hiccup knew she was just being playful, but he couldn't help the blush that crept up to his cheeks. Unfortunately for Astrid, he wasn't about to back down.

"You're one to talk," he whispered back, leaning in closer until their noses actually touched. "You do it with mine."

Astrid immediately drew back. She seemed appalled by his statement. " _No I don't!_ "

"I know you are," he lied, grinning. "You think I haven't noticed you taking stolen shots at me with your phone? You like them, don't you? Do my pictures get you going, you little minx?"

Her face reddened. "I  _don't_  take pictures of you!  _No, no, no!_ "

He laughed. It was rare to see her like this. "Relax," he said after he was done. "I was kidding."

She glared at him for a while, then looked down at her bacon and grumbled. "You're bad at this 'kidding' stuff."

Hiccup laughed again and patted her hair. "Eat. Your bacon is cold."

"Heat it up for me."

"I need to write. Or type. Whatever. I have this new idea I don't want to forget." He pushed himself off the counter and started walking away.

She pouted. "Please? I'll give you a sensual picture of mine if you do."

"Tempting..." He pretended to think about it. "But no."

"Can I watch TV?"

"You practically live here, Astrid."

"Can I watch you write? I like watching you write."

"You'll be bored."

"I'll be quiet. Promise."

He stopped and looked back. She seemed earnest. "Eat first."

"Then I can watch you write?"

He smiled. "I'll leave the door unlocked."

She finished her bacon in a single mouthful.

—

Astrid fell asleep on his lap an hour later. Her breaths came out as small puffs. Hiccup thought it was cute.

He opened a new window in his laptop and typed.

_"Move, then. Away from your home." I hesitated. "Live with me, I guess."_

_Her eyebrows shot up. "You're fine with that?"_

_I cupped her chin gently, tenderly. "Anything for you."_

He stopped and gagged. It sounded bad, cliché, and cheesy, even more so now that he typed it. It was probably the most cringe-worthy thing he had ever written.

But he liked it.

He didn't save it.

* * *

"Go home."

"No."

"Your mom is worried."

"She probably invited another guy over."

Hiccup shook his head. "She called me earlier."

"Liar. You just don't want me here." Astrid hugged her comforter tighter. It's  _his_  comforter, but Astrid's presence in his apartment was so prevalent that it felt like she owned everything he did.

He sighed. "If I could find a dragon and fly you away from here, I will."

She glanced at him. "Really?"

"No. Dragons aren't real."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "You're ruining my delusions again!"

"Like I said, it's my duty as your best friend."

"You stole my line!"

"No, I didn't. We share everything." He tugged at the comforter. "Now come  _on._  I'll give you a ride home."

"Tomorrow."

"Astrid—"

"I'll go home tomorrow."

Hiccup studied her. Her jaw was set stubbornly, and her eyes were telling him to back off or he'll get a broken nose before the night ends. She looked like a ten year-old. A dangerous ten year-old.

"Alright," he relented, and Astrid smiled widely. "But—" her smile disappeared "— _you_  tell your mom."

She glared at him.

He glared back.

"My eyes hurt," Astrid said after a few seconds, still holding her glare.

"Mine, too. But I won't blink until you call her."

"Don't make me talk to her." Her eye twitched.

"She's your mother, Astrid."

"I said  _no._ "

Hiccup blinked.

"Ha!" She grinned triumphantly.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand then grabbed his phone from his nightstand. "Call her," he said sternly, throwing the phone beside her.

"I don't know your password," Astrid said innocently. She tried for a smile, but it faltered when she noticed Hiccup's angry expression.

Hiccup was never angry.

"I'm not an idiot. Call her." Hiccup turned towards the door and slammed it shut. "Don't get out of there until you do!" he shouted from outside.

—

When Astrid went out, Hiccup ignored her. Even when she poked his cheek. Several times.

He was reading, and Astrid knew that he didn't like to be disturbed until he was done. But she also noticed that he hadn't moved from page 336 for the last five minutes, and Hiccup was supposed to be a fast reader.

She sat next to him on the couch.

"Hey." She poked his cheek again. "Talk to me."

Hiccup ignored her. His eyes weren't moving.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. Still no reaction.

"Hiccup." She pushed him. He just sat right back up and continued staring at his book.

Astrid decided to take it a step further.

She forcefully grabbed the book. Hiccup tried to take it back, but she pushed him down with one hand. Then she leaned on him, his chest against her back, and grabbed his shoulder and put it around her, with his hand lying on her stomach. She grabbed his other hand and did the same.

She locked his hands in place by putting hers on top of it. "Can you ignore me now?" Her voice sounded like she was pleading, which was  _so_ unlike her.

It took some time before Hiccup spoke. "Aren't you uncomfortable?"

She shook her head.

"What did your mom say?"

"She told me to go home."

"Figures."

"Can I stay here tomorrow?"

Hiccup burrowed his nose on her hair. She smelled like lemons. "Fine."

"What about the day after?"

He hesitated again. "Maybe."

"Until next month?"

"You're pushing it, Hofferson."

Astrid turned. She let go of his hand and hugged him tightly, as if he might disappear any moment. As if to prove her wrong, Hiccup hugged her tighter. "Stop hesitating," she said.

He visibly flinched. "What do you mean?"

"' _I cupped her chin gently, tenderly. 'Anything for you.'"_  Astrid showed him a teasing smile. "Sound familiar?"

He avoided her eyes. "I thought you were sleeping back then."

"I told you. I like watching you write."

"It was cheesy, right?" He chuckled nervously. "It's the worst thing I've ever written."

"You're right," she said, nodding. "But I liked it."

"My editor probably won't."

She rolled her eyes. "Who cares? Just think that that short dialogue was only for my eyes. For ours."

"You really liked it? Seriously?"

"Yeah."

Hiccup let go of her and pushed her away. Astrid made a sound that was suspiciously like a whimper. "Let's try it again, then."

"Try what again?"

He cleared his throat. He repeated his words. "Move, then. Away from your home. Live with me."

There was no hesitation in him this time.

"Hiccup," Astrid began, "I occupy more than half of your closet. I stay here more than I do back in my home. I don't even wear a bra when we're in the same room. Gods, I don't even wear panties here!  _Are you really that dense?"_

Hiccup's face reddened. Combined with his freckles, he looked like a hairy, oversized strawberry. The fact that his best friend wasn't wearing panties made him more uncomfortable than her not wearing a bra.

"Maybe," he said weakly. "I guess."

Astrid groaned. "Yes! I would  _love_ to live with you!" She tackled him down.

Hiccup knew he should probably be twirling her around in joy, but he was so caught off guard by recent events that he couldn't do anything other than hug her and say, "Wow."

Astrid buried her face in the crook of his neck. "That's all you could say?"

"I spent the last two years trying to tell you to just live with me, but I never thought you'd actually agree. I prepared mostly for your rejection."

She smiled and kissed his neck. "What would you do if I rejected it?"

"Find a dragon and fly away."

"Would you say goodbye to me if you actually did?"

"No. I'd kidnap you on the way."

"I would've gone willingly."

"Too bad. Dragons aren't real."

"Let's make a deal." She raised her head and looked at him in the eyes. "You stop ruining my delusions, and I'll tell you something you'll like."

Hiccup considered it. "Something I like, huh? Interesting. Go on."

Astrid grinned evilly. She buried herself again and nipped at his earlobe. "I actually do masturbate to your pictures."

He laughed. "I can tell you something better." She looked at him skeptically, and he kissed her lower lip before she could speak.

"I masturbate to yours, too."


End file.
